Protect our Kindergarteners

Ady had her last day of PreK this week and her Promotion to Kindergarten ceremony!  In the blink of an eye our first baby is a Kindergartener.  (I have worked on preparing myself for this role, including spending an embarrassing amount of time researching whether Kindergartener or Kindergartner is the correct spelling; it turns out both are acceptable, in case you were wondering.) Ady has been in full-time school since she was 3 months old, so advancing from one grade level to the next doesn't seem as monumental as it might for a kiddo leaving the security of their nest to enter a structured school program for the first time, but taking the leap to Kindergarten still seems like a big deal.  Kindergarten is the foundation of so many important cognitive, social, and emotional skills and the age when math, reading, and athletic skills blossom.  This class of kiddos made it through their first year of in-person public school in the midst of a pandemic and many unknowns, and they navigated mask guidelines and distancing protocols with incredible resiliency and bravery.  At the beginning of the school year, none of the members of her class were eligible for the COVID vaccine, and I would venture to guess that many of them have lost friends or family members to the virus during the course of the school year.  Each day parents and educators were faced with making the right decision about keeping kids safe from COVID while doing their best to accomplish the goals of the school year, stick to the curriculum, and prepare kids for Kindergarten.  

  

During their Promotion ceremony the class performed some songs that they have practiced during their months together.  It was such a delight to see their smiles and hear their laughter, to watch the joy on their faces as they spotted their parents or grandparents in the audience, and to be able to place faces with the names that I have heard about all year.  But there was also a dark cloud over Ady's final week of school as 19 children and 2 adults at Robb Elementary were murdered by a gunman in the deadliest school shooting since Sandy Hook.  In the very hour that Ady's class was lining up for their performance, a man with an assault rifle walked into an elementary school just one state away.  Parents all over the world dropped their kids off at school that morning, and the parents of 19 students never saw their kids again.  They waited hours in agony wondering if their kids were hospitalized in one of the nearby cities, hoping for the best.  They submitted DNA samples to identify their children.  And they are now doing the things that no parent should ever have to do as they plan memorial services and bury their children.

With each subsequent school shooting, I am overwhelmed with so many different emotions.  Grief.  Anger.  Fear.  Disgust with our country and its values.  Profound disappointment in our leaders.  And then I find myself becoming numb, like a subconscious defense mechanism to prevent myself from feeling too much.  I remember where I was when I first learned about Columbine.  I was in 7th grade.  That was one of the most life-changing moments for my generation as we adapted to the paradigm shift of learning that school was no longer the safest place for us.  Columbine changed everything for kids born in the 80s and 90s, and the gravity of Sandy Hook further tarnished us and damaged our trust in our country and its leaders, our understanding of humans and the potential for cruelty.  But coping with school shootings as a parent takes my grief to another dimension.  

As a parent of young children, I admit that there are at least 50 things that are more acutely terrifying to me than the thought of my kids being shot.  Car accidents, being hit by a car in a park lot, falling off a balcony, choking, strangulation by an innocent toy left in a crib, falling from the top bunk, a baseball to the head, cancer, electrocution, eating a battery, respiratory distress, COVID-19, falling off a bike, airplane crash, rattlesnake bite, drowning in a pool, and at least three dozen other tragedies haunt my consciousness every single day.  But a staggering statistic that I only just discovered is that firearm-related injuries are now the most common cause of death in children and teens in our country.  I didn't even believe it until I read it in multiple sources.  Guns kill more kids than any other source of injury or illness.  It is so disgusting to me that we live in a world where this is a truth.  I now realize that I need to be more scared that my child will die from a gun than any of the other many ways that I fear my child will die.  As a parent, I haven't even begun to come to terms with the implications of that, nor do I have the language to prepare my children for what to do in an active shooter situation like we prepare them to be careful around electricity and sharp objects and open water.

It goes without saying that the United States is an embarrassment to the civilized world in the way we have historically responded to gun violence and the way we value gun ownership over our children's lives.  The United States has a hundred times more mass shootings than other world leaders.  Most rational humans would agree that acquiring a gun or any other weapon should be extremely difficult and reserved for those who have met a long list of criteria, and that there are absolutely zero circumstances in which a civilian has any business owning a semi-automatic rifle.  I, like many Americans, can't even believe that this is even a debate anymore, that the interpretation of the second amendment has been so skewed and manipulated over the years that it has become this narcissistic, power-driven, money-driven, unrecognizable thing that has nothing to do with the values of most Americans.  Background checks and waiting periods need to be mandatory, training must be required, semi-automatic weapons must be prohibited, and law enforcement officials should reserve the right to confiscate weapons from anyone at risk of harming themselves or others.  The culture around guns need to change so that young people see how guns can be used by trained professionals to keep the community safe or by trained hunters to obtain food and help control wildlife populations, not an object to be use to end another person's life.   

It also increasingly obvious that we have a mental health crisis that is going to be our downfall if we don't address it.  So many people (is it accurate to say the majority of people?) are anxious, sad, hurt, resentful, depressed, scared, hopeless, distressed, or otherwise aching inside from something that happened in the past, something that's happening right now, or something they are afraid will happen in the future, and many people don't have the financial or logistical means to get help.  I have become increasingly fearful of tailgating someone too closely, looking at someone the wrong way in a store, or inadvertently offending a stranger, because a lot of people are walking around on the brink of destruction, and one wrong move will set someone over the edge.  As more and more people own guns, more and more people feel the need to own guns, and our problem grows exponentially, which is increasingly problematic when most of the country is suffering mentally or psychologically.  Earlier this month we had a lockdown at the hospital because of an active shooter situation, and while thankfully no one was injured, it was a sobering reminder that a person could walk into almost any building with a loaded weapon and cause mass destruction and loss of life before anyone could respond.  We need to create access to safer avenues for people to get the support they need.  We need a world where everyone feels loved and has the opportunity to achieve self-actualization.  We need unlimited access to abortion services in all communities to increase the chances that every child who is born will have food, shelter, safety, and the love of parents who are ready for the challenge of raising a child.  I'm talking about a new and true definition of "pro life" that supports lives and humanity beyond the fetal period.  We need to value mental health to the same degree as physical health, with regular screenings, investment in prevention, and proactive treatment.  

In many recent school shootings, there were warning signs before the attack occurred.  Most mass shootings are planned out, rather than impulsive.  As a country we need more effective ways to identify the red flags and have accessible avenues for reporting concerns without risk of retaliation.  Peers need to know what number to call or who to talk to if they observe concerning behavior, including methods for reporting that don't directly involve contact with law enforcement in case a teen feels unsafe doing so, and school counselors and officials need training in what to look for and what questions to ask of potential perpetrators of gun violence.  Many (but not all) school shooters were victims of bullying, and I dream of a world where yoga, art therapy, journaling, and other strategies can be implemented in every school across the country to improve self-awareness, confidence, conflict resolution, coping strategies, and more cohesive school communities.

And in addition to our gun problem and mental health cataclysm, we have a boy crisis on our hands as well.  I'm not saying that there is something inherently violent about boys.  In fact I believe many behavioral differences between boys and girls arise from the way they are raised and influenced by society, not by an inherent biological basis.  But we have a problem in the ways in which we support and nurture our boys.  In the United States, hundreds of mass shootings have been conducted by males, while only a small few have involved a female shooter.  We have a crisis that is so far beyond my scope of intelligence or expertise that I can't even begin to articulate it, but we need to do things differently.  We need to teach toddler boys the love and compassion that we teach our toddler girls, and let them play with dolls and stuffed animals to develop skills of compassion and nurturing.  We need to stop labeling and punishing preschool aged boys who don't behave like the girls, recognizing that their brain development is different and that expectations to sit still all day might not be developmentally appropriate.  We need to structure our educational system so that both girls and boys can thrive and feel like leaders in the classroom.  We need boys to have male role models who embody healthy emotional expression and conflict resolution and fight to allow them to have a father figure in their lives even if that person is no longer in a relationship with their mother, provided the father figure is one who provides a stable and healthy example of how to behave as a member of society.  We need to create opportunities for fathers and uncles and grandpas to connect with one another in the same ways that "mommy groups" operate.  We need to diagnose and treat mental illness in our adolescent boys, rather than suppressing emotional expression.  We need to encourage dialogue among men and boys and help them find a place in society and a way to engage in competition and athleticism that doesn't revolve around killing.  We need to keep kids in school and do everything possible to end the preschool to prison pipeline.  When a crime is committed, we need to recognize it for what it is: a behavior, an action, a mistake, but not a reflection of who that individual is as a person.  We need more men and boys marching on the front lines for feminist and human rights causes.  And for the love of all that is good, we need to stop associating guns with the ultimate expression of masculinity and freedom.  

I went running past our local high school on Thursday, the day of graduation for the senior class.  Around the perimeter of the school, the names and photos of the seniors were on display.  As I looked into their faces and read their names I said a silent prayer to please let them get through today.  Please let graduation go on without incident.  Please let the weapons be left at home, left the fights and conflicts be pushed aside for one day, let every young person keep it together and have the love and support they need to get through today without killing anyone or being killed by someone.  My prayers were answered and the high schooler celebrated their graduation, but Thursday was only one day, and I think this is a hope or wish or prayer or mantra we are going to have to say every single day at every single school until something changes.

Between the pandemic, the devastating effects of climate change including the largest fire in New Mexico's history that is currently ravaging the state, and gun violence that is taking more children's lives than any other cause, I fear for the the next generation.  I feel helpless to keep them safe.  Every day calls for immense trust and profound bravery to send our babies out into the world and hope that they might return home to us.  I want my Kindergartener to make it to her high school graduation, and I want the deaths of those who will never see that day to not be in vain.  I will not settle for the notion that "nothing can be done."  Something can be done and something has to be done.  I don't think it's too much to ask.

First Day of PreK

Last Day of PreK